


Drill Sergeant Rogers

by Virginia_Blue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Basic Training, Bucky Barnes is a Recruit, Coming In Pants, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Doesn't Have Time For Your Racist Bullshit, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers is a Drill Sergeant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virginia_Blue/pseuds/Virginia_Blue
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a top of the line U.S. Army recruit. Faster, stronger, braver, and gayer than everyone else. Wait, what?No longer able to deny his sexuality, Bucky is determined to hide it so he can still serve his country. One drill sergeant is making that a much... harder... goal to meet.Will Steve ever lend the poor guy a helping hand?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	1. Yep, I'm Gay

**Author's Note:**

> This will be more a series of connected scenes than a flowing story, and some chapters will be flashbacks (will always be made clear when that happens). Tags will be updated as the story progresses.

James Buchanan Barnes sat next to a small, grinning Asian guy who introduced himself as “Scott Lang, but my friend’s call me Ant.” 

Before Bucky could even respond, he continued. “And yes my dad is Japanese, but no I’m not a spy.”

“Didn’t think you were,” Bucky spoke quietly, not wanting to get in trouble even though he knew the training didn’t start until they got off the bus at Fort Benning. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah man that’s a great name. Bucky and Ant, punching Nazis and saving the world.” Ant hadn’t stopped smiling since he got on the bus, and Bucky found himself smiling along with him.

They kept up a quiet conversation as the bus rumbled closer to their destination, but when it stopped moving Bucky’s heart jumped back into his throat. He’d wanted this since he heard his dad’s Great War stories as a boy, and now was his chance to prove himself. 

18 years old and ready to fight, he sat up straighter in his seat and gripped his bag tighter against his chest. Even Ant quieted in the moments before the door to the bus opened, and the braver men looked around and caught each other’s eyes. This was it.

Bucky turned his eyes to the front of the bus and audibly gasped at the man who stepped up the stairs. At about six feet tall he was the same height as Bucky, but he was nearly twice as broad. Barrel chest, biceps that looked ready to pop out of the rolled sleeves, and a strong jaw to top it off, this man was a god. 

Gulping, Bucky shifted in his seat and found himself leaning toward the man involuntarily. He couldn’t quite see the man’s hair under his wide brimmed drill sergeant hat, but his eyes were a piercing blue that bored into Bucky’s soul as they swept over him.

“Close your mouth, man” Ant murmured to him, and Bucky realized he was ogling the drill sergeant. 

“On your feet! What are you waiting for?” The drill sergeant waited just long enough for the anticipation to build before shouting at the men. Bucky closed his eyes, feeling his khakis become tighter as that deep voice washed over him. 

Lurching to his feet and using his bag to cover his now obvious erection, Bucky took deep breaths as he looked anywhere but the god man. This wasn’t good. 

_Not a homosexual, not a homosexual, not a homosexual_ Bucky chanted in his head as he joined the line of men running off of the bus, and once outside he went to his indicated place. 

Looking anywhere but the drill sergeant who so rudely crushed all of his honed self-control and denial, Bucky took deep breaths and managed to fight his erection back down to something manageable. 

“You!”

_Not a homosexual, not a homosexual, not a homosexual_

“Recruit, are you deaf? I’m speaking to you!”

_Not a homosexual, not a homosexual, not a--_

“Recruit!” The man’s face was suddenly inches from his own, and Bucky jumped as his internal monologue was wrecked. “What’s your name?”

“Uh…” Bucky couldn’t think of anything other than those blue eyes and full lips, and he had to close his eyes tightly shut before he could say “James Barnes, sir!”

“Sir? Do I look like a lousy officer to you?”

Opening his eyes, Bucky looked right over the man’s shoulder. “Uh-- no--”

“Drill sergeant Wilson!”

The man called for another drill sergeant who Bucky hadn’t noticed before, though as the only African American person in sight he wasn’t sure how he missed him. 

“Yes, Drill Sergeant Rogers?” 

Wilson was a lean, mustached black man standing fifteen meters away in front of a red-faced recruit.

“Please inform these men how they will address us.”

“My pleasure,” and Wilson’s small smile actually made Bucky believe it. He wheeled on his heel and stared down the line of men. “I am Sergeant Wilson, this is Staff Sergeant Rogers. You will address us as drill sergeant, and unless directed otherwise we only want to hear yes, no, or no excuse. Is that understood?”

A weak chorus of “Yes, drill sergeant” sounded from the men, and Wilson shook his head sadly.

“Weak! I said, is that understood?”

A much stronger “Yes, drill sergeant!” came then, but Bucky saw something that made his blood boil. The man Wilson had been standing in front of earlier remained stubbornly silent and glared at Wilson. 

Rogers must have seen it too, because he walked over to stand in front of the man. “Is something wrong, recruit?” 

His voice was quiet fire, and Bucky fought the urge to cover his crotch as his erection grew. _Not a homosexual_

“No, drill sergeant!”

Rogers scoffed and turned away to address everyone. 

“I will say this now and never again. Drill sergeant Wilson is my second in command. He is twice the man any of you are and has saved my neck more times than I can count, _in combat_ , which is something none of you chumps have ever experienced. If any of you backwoods, racists assholes give him any less than the utmost respect, you will be out of my Army faster than you can say “sorry.” Got it?”

After that speech, Bucky’s mental chorus stopped and his pants were as tented as they could possibly be. Fuck. 

Rogers directed them to their next station as top volume, and when Bucky started running toward the wrong line, he stuck out a hand to grab and redirect him toward the correct one. “Pay attention, recruit!”

In five minutes, this man wrecked all of Bucky’s carefully crafted self-control. His shoulders, chest, chiseled jaw, blue eyes, deep voice, and oh my God his stance against racism drove him past all of Bucky’s defenses. 

But feeling his strong hand on his shoulder was too much for Bucky, and he stayed painfully hard through every stage of the check in process after that. Including the uniform sizing and issue, which was certainly humiliating.

The second he heard “latrine time, you have two minutes!” he sprinted toward the bathroom. Seeing no stall doors, only dividers, he cursed himself but knew he had no choice if he wanted to save any face throughout the rest of the day.

Running up to the toilet and unbuttoning his new uniform pants, he pulled himself free of the tight confines and started stroking as quickly as he could, trying to disguise his motions from the men running around behind him. He rolled his balls in one hand and twisted the other up and down his shaft, and within ten seconds was ready to bust. 

Rogers’ “Hurry up!” from outside was all it took for him to shoot, and rope after rope of thick cum shot into the toilet bowl. And on the floor. And on the wall. Bucky almost fell over from the force of his orgasm, and he looked at the damage with a grimace.

Not able to do anything about it, Bucky flushed the toilet, ducked his head, and sprinted back outside, only to feel himself stirring again upon laying eyes on Rogers. 

Yeah, he was a homosexual. 

And he was so fucked.


	2. Cumming Undone on the Barracks Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky continues to fall apart, and Steve starts to notice

“Geeeeeeeettt up!”

The sounds of Drill Sergeants Rogers and Wilson broke into Bucky’s very pleasant dream like an ice pick, dragging him violently into the world of the living. A world where he, for the third morning in a row, was staring down at tented sheets. 

“Not again,” he murmured to himself as he jumped out of bed and stumbled the few steps to the toe line. He gripped the base of his dick through his thin shorts and squeezed hard, hoping to force it down before anyone saw. 

The pain was working and he slowly wilted, but suddenly the subject of Bucky’s dreams was looming in front of him in all of his picturesque glory, and Bucky quickly returned to full mast. 

Staff Sergeant Rogers, the muscular god, narrowed his eyes at Bucky and shouted “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Barnes? Hands at your sides!”

Bucky didn’t move for a second too long, and Rogers snapped “Now, recruit!”

Slowly releasing his shield, Bucky moved his hands to the proper position of attention. Unfortunately for his dignity, his penis also moved itself into the position of attention, and obscenely tented the front of his shorts. 

Rogers pressed his lips together in a thin line and gave Bucky a look that could almost be viewed as sympathetic, though Bucky surmised that on day three of boot camp he might not know his expressions that well yet. Though when Rogers turned around to face the group, keeping his broad back in front of Bucky and blocking everyone’s view of him, Bucky thought he was probably right.

“Drill Sergeant Wilson, the time?”

Everyone had stopped moving and stood at attention, waiting with bated breath for Wilson’s response. 

“23 seconds too slow, Drill Sergeant Rogers. Looks like they want to waste our time.”

Rogers shook his head in disappointment. “Seven seconds from your rack to the line, recruits. Seven seconds to sit up and walk three steps. How the hell did it take you 30?!” His voice rose to a shout by the end, and a chorus of “No excuse, drill sergeant!” followed him. 

Rogers nodded to Wilson, who nodded in return before stepping to the center of the two long rows of beds to speak. “You know what this means, recruits. We _will_ earn our time back. Front leaning rest position, move!”

Bucky followed everyone else in getting into the push up position, bare hands and feet pressed against the cold concrete. 

“Down….Up!”

“One, drill sergeant!”

“Down….Up!” 

“Two, drill sergeant!”

As the recruits began their early morning PT, Bucky tried to focus on anything other than the man who just two minutes ago in dream land was balls deep in Bucky’s ass. The cold impact of the concrete against his bulging shorts would normally help, but it was becoming apparent to him that this was one of those situations that could only be resolved one way. 

Rogers turned his back to the other recruits and crouched down in front of Bucky, very unfortunately putting his crotch at Bucky’s eye level. He leaned as close as he could to ensure he wouldn’t be overheard, and spoke softly and quickly. “Find a way to take care of that, son.”

Bucky gritted out an equally quiet “Yes, drill sergeant.” As Rogers bounced and stood up from his low squat, Bucky rose with him on an “Up!” Rogers was so close and Bucky was rising so fast, that inevitably his face brushed against Roger’s bulge. 

It was the briefest, lightest touch possible, so small that Rogers didn’t even react to it. To Bucky, fresh off of hot dream sex with the penis he just felt on his cheek, it was all he needed. On the next “Up,” he stayed down and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He wasn’t aware of much apart from the pounding in his head and the feeling of his balls drawing up, but he did have a flash of self awareness that made him reach down and hike up the leg of his shorts. The only sound he allowed himself to make was a whispered, shaky “Fuck.”

“We’ll continue when Barnes is done taking a nap.”

Wilson’s voice cut through his haze, and Bucky somehow managed to plant his hands firmly under his shoulders and push up. His arms and legs were jelly, but he did the five remaining push ups and rose to standing when instructed to do so. 

“Let’s try this again,” Rogers’ voice this time cut through Bucky’s haze. “Six minutes to conduct personal hygiene, fix your racks, and be in your full PT uniform. Is that understood?”

“Yes, drill sergeant!”

“Good.” Rogers nodded to Wilson, who held up a stopwatch to indicate he was ready to start the clock. 

On “Go!” the recruits jumped into a flurry of movement. Bucky was the closest to the bathroom so he sprinted there and ran into a doorless stall. He fished himself out of his shorts and stood over the toilet, and while he pissed he also reached down to grab a wad of toilet paper. 

Finished pissing, he wasted no time in rushing back to his rack and wiping up the white puddle next to his bed. As he got the last of it onto the tissue, he looked up and met Staff Sergeant Rogers’ knowing and concerned eyes. 

“Fuck” Bucky mumbled to himself, but with the looming clock he didn’t allow any wasted any time on embarrassment.

Four minutes later he was lacing up his running shoes and running across the aisle to help Ant finish making his rack. 

The group missed the time hack by almost a full minute, and Wilson promised to get his time back as Rogers led them out of the door on a run.

Bucky hung back in an effort to try to distance himself from the sight of Rogers’ muscular back and bouncing ass, but when the two guys in front of him fell back there was nothing to impede his view. 

Feeling himself swell, Bucky clenched his fists as tightly as possible. 

“Fuck.”


	3. Accidental Dry Humping at the Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grenade training incident gone wrong leads our men to a tense moment

Grenade day was always stressful for the instructors, and for good reason. They took precautions, of course, but at the end of the day they were still having 18 year old men play with live explosives. Some of whom were sorely lacking in the aim and maturity departments. 

So, yeah. Stressful.

Staff Sergeant Rogers was standing with a single squad and taking them through proper grenade protocol while Sergeant Wilson PT’d the rest of the recruits at the top of the nearby hill. 

It was boiling outside, and Rogers wiped his brow as he motioned Private Parker up to the line. A small, skinny kid who reminded him of himself when he was young, Parker was just as sweaty and miserable as the rest of them, but still he stood up tall when Rogers chose him to go first. 

While the squad watched from ten feet behind them, Rogers and Parker stood in front of the small trench used to take cover should something go wrong. Reminding him of the steps one more time, Rogers placed a grenade in Parker’s hands and released him to throw down range. 

Parker pulled the pin, smiled, and cocked his arm back wildly to load up for the throw. Unfortunately, he had wiped his forehead of sweat right before grabbing the grenade. That, combined with general clumsiness, led to the grenade slipping out of his hand and rolling directly into the squad behind them. 

Rogers cursed.

A million thoughts ran through his mind in the split second before he acted, his instincts honed as they were through years of combat training and experience. Three thoughts in particular stood out when he reflected on this moment later, however. 

The first thought was anger at himself for letting Parker go first. He thought it would be a nice confidence boost for a kid who clearly needed it, but he knew he was clumsier than most and would have benefitted from watching other attempts first.

The second thought was of Private Barnes, who saw the grenade coming in before any of his squad mates and sounded the cry. He grabbed the shirts of Lang and another man, pulling them into the trench directly behind them and covering their bodies with his own.

The third thought was “Fuck, my men are too close to this thing and Barnes is the only one moving.”

Rogers did the only thing his instincts would allow him to do. He shoved Parker harshly into their trench, leaped over it, and took a running dive on top of the grenade, yelling all the way down for everyone to get back. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking how shitty it was to die like this when he had survived the virtually impossible in combat. But the bang didn’t come. Tentatively opening his eyes after a few long seconds, the first sight Rogers saw was Barnes’ face peeking out over the edge of his trench in confusion, relief, and no small amount of admiration.

Finally able to tear himself away from Barnes’ face, Rogers saw his men still standing far too closely. He figured out that he was on a defective grenade in that moment, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t blow. It just meant it wouldn’t blow when you wanted it to. 

With that in mind, Rogers kept his body as still as possible and said in a clear voice “Run. Now.” 

The men didn’t immediately move, but Bucky’s “It’s defective and can blow at any second, idiots. Run!” got them all running up the hill to Wilson.

Bucky started after them up the hill, but he reached the top first. Wilson looked at him and seemed ready to jump into his normal shouting, but something about Bucky’s face stopped him. 

“Drill sergeant Rogers is laying on top of a defective grenade. Pin removed, no detonation.”

Wilson jumped into action, barking out a sharp “Don’t move” to the men before starting to run down the hill. When he threw out a “Barnes, with me!” over his shoulder, Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow. 

“Steve, you doing alright?” Wilson stayed a decent distance away from where _Steve_ was laying (Bucky filed away his name).

“I’ve been better, if I’m being honest,” Steve replied in a dry tone. 

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Follow my instructions and I’ll get you out of this, don’t worry.”

“If I die in a fucking training exercise I’m never going to live it down.”

“Are you doubting me?” As he asked the question, Sam motioned for Bucky to follow him to a spot above Steve’s head and directly next to the nearest trench. Steve looked up and was able to make out Bucky.

“Ah come on man, if I get rescued by a recruit that’s humiliating too.”

“You can tell everyone I’m a little green alien if you want, sarge, but I’m helping to get you out of this” Bucky spoke softly but firmly and Sam raised an impressed eyebrow at him. 

“Listen to the kid, Steve.”

Steve didn’t reply, and Sam took that as cue to continue. “You need to get your feet under you and jump toward us. We’ll grab any part of you we can and pull you into the trench right here. It won’t be pretty, but it’ll get the job done.”

“Jump and pray, that’s what you came up with?”

“Yes. You finally get to use those legs for something other than distracting all the boys in the bar.” Sam nodded at Bucky, who nodded back and indicated he was ready.

Steve started slowly moving his feet and hands into jumping position. “Jealous, Sam?”

“You’re great, big guy, but not exactly my type,” Sam spread his feet wider and squatted down slightly. “Jump on go. Ready?”

Steve nodded his agreement and dug his toe into the dirt.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Go!”

In one fluid, graceful motion, Steve leaped with outstretched arms toward Sam and Bucky. Sam latched onto Steve’s left hand and Bucky wrapped both hands around his right upper arm, and together they yanked him into the trench. 

Breathing a sigh of relief at still being alive and feeling his blood pumping in every inch of his body, it took Steve a solid five seconds to notice he was laying directly on top of Bucky. It took him another five to feel they were in a rather interesting predicament. 

It would seem that Steve’s racing pulse and excitement at his current living status caused an engorgement of a certain body part. It would also seem that Bucky Barnes’ perpetual erection in the presence of Steve Rogers was in no way hiding at this moment. The end result, to the embarrassment and pleasure of both men, was the sliding of their clothed erections against each other.

Both men were so acutely focused on their unexpected arousal that Sam’s “We all okay?” caused them to flinch, thereby causing another exquisite grinding motion. 

Steve gasped and locked eyes with Bucky, unable to resist another roll of his hips before starting to sit up off of him. “Yeah I’m good. Looks like it wasn’t going to go live anyway, but thanks for the--”

Interrupting his sentence, the grenade suddenly went off, sending all three men back to the dirt. Bucky felt Steve’s arms circling him for long seconds as the dirt settled, and he gave an experimental thrust. When Steve thrust back right after, he lost control in an instant, burying his face in Steve’s neck and murmuring a barely audible “I’m sorry” into it as he jerked underneath him.

Steve whispered back huskily “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

After longer than they should’ve laid there, Steve got up and helped Bucky to his feet before turning to Sam, who only acknowledged the tension with a single raised eyebrow. Steve shrugged and hauled himself out of the trench, motioning for Sam and Bucky to follow suit.

That night as Steve laid down to sleep, he couldn’t help but remember the sighed apology as Barnes writhed under him, and based on Barnes’ previous issues, he could only assume he was having an orgasm. 

Steve only stopped thinking about it when his hand was coated in his own cum, unaware that just one room away Bucky was doing the same thing.


	4. A Wet Dream and an Open Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky sees something he isn't supposed to in the middle of the night, but it's what he hears that changes everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter for you today

Three nights after the grenade incident, Bucky woke up in the early hours of the morning. Sleep was unsurprisingly uneven and shitty over boot camp, so his wake up itself wasn’t unusual. What _was_ unusual was that he didn’t have an erection. 

He was happy with that reality. Extraordinarily so, actually, since it hadn’t happened since the first day he laid eyes on a certain drill sergeant. It wasn’t until he moved that he felt the reason why he didn’t have an erection. He already came. 

“Goddammit” he muttered under his breath and started pushing back his blanket to stand up and go clean himself off in the bathroom. Nothing worse than waking up with already crusted cum all over his shorts. 

Looking around to ensure everyone else was unmoving in their beds, Bucky pulled off his shorts and stood bare-assed in front of the sink that was the most hidden from the dark rows of beds. Splashing some water on his hands and grabbing a paper towel, he wiped the residual cum off of his penis, stopping suddenly with a curse when the motion made him start to get hard again. 

That done, he wiped what he could off of his shorts with wet fingers and a paper towel. He debated washing them completely in the sink, but since he wasn’t sure how much time was left until wake up, he didn’t want to risk standing there with obviously wet shorts. 

Slipping the shorts back on, Bucky stood for a long moment and looked at his faint reflection in the mirror. His hair was shorn closely to his scalp, and there were bags under both of his eyes. The past three days had been especially difficult for him, ever since the shameful grenade incident. 

At the time, Bucky thought maybe Rogers was a homosexual too, but the more he thought about it the more he rationalized that thought away as projection and wishful thinking. Rogers was the best of the best; he was probably just hard from the excitement of the whole grenade thing. And based on Rogers avoiding him like the plague the past few days, he knew he made him uncomfortable. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his reflection and turned to stalk away. He resolved to do better going forward and not give Rogers any more reason to be uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault Bucky had a perpetual hard-on for him. 

Unfortunately, Bucky’s resolve wavered seconds after he made it when he caught sight of light coming through the cracked door of Roger’s room. His feet moved him toward the door almost of their own accord, and by the time he was halfway there he figured a quick peek through wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

Just a peek, though. Just one final look at Rogers, who was probably just getting ready to come scream them awake. A short look before he could finally put his obsession to bed/ (Even as he thought it he knew it was bullshit.)

The crack was a few inches wide, and Bucky quietly and slowly leaned to the left so he could look through. He heard suspiciously familiar sounds coming from the room, until his heart beat grew so loud he almost couldn’t hear them anymore.

When his eye finally lined up with the crack, his suspicions were gloriously confirmed. 

Rogers was sitting in a chair, shorts around his ankles, moving his hand steadily up and down his dick. His long, thick, massive dick. All of Bucky’s blood immediately ran to his own, and he felt his erection rise until it pressed against the wall in front of him.

Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but even he was nothing compared to the man in front of him. Rogers was sitting with his eyes closed and head tilted back, and Bucky pulled his own shorts down to relieve some pressure.

Suddenly Rogers’ hips canted up from the seat and his muscles tensed all down his tree trunk legs. As the first rope of cum left his dick, a ragged “Barnes” left his lips. 

Bucky felt like his entire world exploded, and couldn’t help his loud gasp. Rogers snapped his eyes open and saw Bucky standing in his doorway. He moved to cover himself, but stopped when he noticed Bucky was standing there dick in hand. 

Rogers licked his lips, eyes still clouded with lust, and looked directly into Bucky’s eyes. “Barnes” he whispered again. 

Unable to help himself, Bucky immediately started cumming, painting Rogers’ door and the floor just inside his room. Rogers bit his lip and looked like he was about to say something else, but Bucky panicked and ran back to his bed before he could. 

He lay there panting, hiding under his covers and thinking about what he had just experienced. It seemed like Sergeant Rogers liked him too. At least he hoped so, because after cumming in front of the man for the second time he didn’t think he would be in the Army for much longer otherwise. 

The possibility of Rogers liking him was too much for him to handle, and in the hour before wake up, he came two more times. 

Clean up was a bitch in the morning.


	5. Operation Wingman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam ships Steve/Bucky as much as I do

After his lust-haze cleared, Steve quickly pulled his shorts up and felt his heart racing. He didn’t think Barnes would tell anyone what just happened, but god was that stupid of him to do. Leaving the door open? Anyone could’ve walked by. 

And Barnes? God he was so fucked. 

Steve’s first impression was pretty, strong, and fit. Fine recruit, nothing more. 

Then the kid had to go and be a good person too. Steve watched his budding friendship with Lang, saw his glares directed toward the racists in the unit, and when he took charge of the other recruits at the grenade incident? He was only a week into basic training, and he was already falling for a recruit. He was fucked. 

Though if he was being honest, he might be able to handle the emotional attraction on its own. It wouldn’t be fun, but he knew he could keep it together and stay professional. But no. No, Barnes had to go and have a _very_ serious problem controlling his dick. 

And fuck if Steve didn’t need release too. 

Three hours later, Steve was standing with Sam Wilson while the recruits were in the pool for basic survival training. They didn’t need to swim, per se, but they did need to figure out how to float and move in some fashion from point A to point B. 

Barnes had yet to figure out either of those things, and he clung to the wall in fear Steve could tell he was desperately trying not to let show on his face. 

“Looks like we found something your boy isn’t good at” Sam nudged Steve’s arm and spoke quiet enough for only him to hear. 

Steve furrowed his brows. “My boy?”

“Don’t deny it, Cap,” said Sam, using Steve’s nickname from their last unit. “I had my suspicions before, but after the grenade incident it’s as good as confirmed. Y’all have it bad for each other.”

“He’s a recruit. You know nothing can happen.”

Barnes was yelled off the wall by a swim instructor, and as he started slipping under and swallowing water, Steve took a half step forward involuntarily. Lang swam gracefully over to him and brought him back to the wall, however, and Steve relaxed as the smaller man started talking Barnes through some basic mechanics. 

Sam watched Steve’s reaction with a smug smile. “I know you, Steve. If you need to have a little....conversation,” Sam raised his eyebrows twice in suggestion, “with the guy, you can. As long as you don’t compromise his training or get caught.”

Steve turned to look at Sam critically. Sam was one of the first ones in his last unit to know he was a homosexual, after an unfortunate walking in on him receiving a blow job from another man incident. He was thrown off for about ten minutes, but at the end told Steve that he was the best damn man he’d ever served with, and as someone used to getting shat on for his skin color, he could empathize. 

Without saying anything for a minute, Steve turned to look back at Barnes. Lang had him leaning back against the edge and practicing the leg motion for treading, and some of the panic lines had left his face. 

Still without looking at Sam, he said “You take them to church tomorrow. I’ll stay behind.”

Sam’s smile turned into a laugh, which he quickly stifled when one of the recruits looked his way. “You got it, Cap.”

\---

It was the second Sunday of basic training, and all the recruits knew from last week that the first half of the day was a much gentler environment than the others. They woke up with normal voices, not screaming shouts, for one. They also were required to go to church service. 

At least, they were supposed to be.

On the first Saturday night of basic training, Bucky asked, fearfully, permission to speak to Wilson privately. 

“Something wrong, Barnes?” Wilson asked after leading Bucky into his and Rogers’ office. 

“Um, yes, drill sergeant.” He hesitated, and Wilson looked at him closer. He initially thought the kid might be asking to go to medical for his erection issue, but watching his scared face he was realizing it might be something more serious. 

“Okay. Tell me what’s going on.” 

Bucky took Wilson’s receptive body language and open face as a good sign, so he swallowed and started talking. “Sergeant Rogers said everyone has to go to church tomorrow, and, well, I can’t.”

Wilson cocked his head. “He said that because the base commander made it a requirement for all recruits and personnel not on duty. The general is rather religious.”

“Ah, okay.” Bucky looked like he was struggling, and Wilson said “That doesn’t mean we might now be able to help you, mind you. Between you and me, Sergeant Rogers and myself aren’t always the most rule-abiding men in the Army.” 

His words made Bucky relax, and Wilson continued. “Tell me more about your situation, and we can try to work something out together.”

“Well, I’m Jewish, drill sergeant, and I,” Bucky cleared his throat, “I’m really uncomfortable in the Christian church environment.”

Wilson gave it a beat before speaking. “Participation in the service isn’t mandatory, just attendance, you know.”

“I’d really rather not, drill sergeant. I spent enough time growing up getting beaten and threatened and insulted by Christians in the name of their God, and I really don’t want to have to relive that again.” Bucky felt all of his childhood fear running through him, and he channeled it into his anger. “It’s not fair that you expect me to sit in a service for a religion I’m not only not part of, but that has victimized my people for thousands of years, and me personally my entire life.” 

Bucky’s voice had started to rise, and he brought it back down to finish with “Please don’t make me go.”

Bucky felt a hand on his arm and he looked up to meet Wilson’s earnest gaze. “I’ll talk to St- Rogers, and we’ll work something out, okay? I’m not going to march you into something that’s traumatic for you.”

Frustrated with himself, but happy with Wilson’s response, Bucky wiped angrily at his eyes and quietly replied “Thank you.”

And so, making good on his promise, Sam talked to Steve and came up with a plan later that night. The church requirement was for all recruits and personnel not on duty, and they chose to read it as “recruits not on duty” and “personnel not on duty” rather than “recruits” and “personnel not on duty.” Therefore, their company would now stand up a two-person Sunday morning watch in the barracks. One recruit, and one drill sergeant. Probably wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny since only one recruit would ever stand it, but at a cursory glance it should keep them all out of trouble. 

The first Sunday, Wilson stayed behind with Barnes. He gave him a few small cleaning and organizing tasks to keep him busy, but he kept his tone light through it all. While Barnes was organizing the bookshelf in his office, Wilson struck up a light conversation with the kid. 

He learned that he was from Brooklyn, NY, but had some family in the South he spent time with every summer. He learned that he was always good in school but really excelled in sports. He learned that he had a single mother, loved reading, hated swimming, and that everyone back home called him Bucky. 

What was most interesting of all, however, was what he learned when Barnes blushed furiously at the mention of one Steve Rogers. From that moment on, Sam Wilson paid closer attention, and the past week had been very illuminating. 

Steve liked Bucky, Bucky liked Steve, and Sam thought they would be a perfect fit. So, Operation Wingman was initiated. 

Phase one was getting Steve to agree to stay behind on the next Sunday and making him think it was his idea, and Saturday at the pool it was accomplished. 

Phase two was getting them to act on all that damn sexual tension, but he was hopeful that one would take care of itself. 

And so, as he left with the recruits on the second Sunday of basic training, Sam was internally grinning like an idiot. 

Bucky and Steve were both scared shitless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of smut this time, but I had a few pesky plot points to get across real quick. It'll be back in full force next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have a little Sunday morning fun. Finally.

“Um, Sergeant Rogers?” Bucky stood at Steve’s door, fiddling with his hands and avoiding eye contact with the man as the memory of the last time he stood at the door caused the front of his PT shorts to marginally tighten. 

Steve glanced up, saw the erection Bucky was sporting, and looked away as a light blush colored his cheeks. “Yes?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing right now,” Bucky confessed, and Steve knew he meant it on more than the surface ‘what do you want me to clean’ level.

Letting out a short breath, Steve looked up at Bucky’s face and said honestly “Neither do I, Barnes. Neither do I.”

“Oh.” Bucky’s ears turned red. “I guess I’ll just go and--”

“Come here,” Steve motioned Bucky inside the room and pointed to the other chair, just feet from his own. “Sit.”

Bucky gulped nervously, but complied. Realizing how close he was to the object of his fantasies, Bucky put his hands in his lap to try and hide the signs of his arousal.

“This is awkward for me too, but it’ll just get worse if we don’t address it head on.” Steve licked his lips and nodded to himself, fortifying his resolve. “Are you a homosexual, Barnes?”

Bucky’s first reaction was panic, and his wide eyes looked up wildly. When they met with Steve’s kind blue eyes, however, the panic lessened. _Steve seems earnest and like he wouldn’t fuck someone over for that, but what if he’s just trying to trick me? Should I deny it?_

Seeing the thoughts swirling in Bucky’s eyes, Steve gave him a minute to process. What he wasn’t expecting was Bucky’s suspicious voice to ask him the same question in return. 

“Are you a homosexual, Sergeant Rogers?”

Steve smiled softly and gripped his knee tightly with his hand.

Bucky didn’t know what he was expecting, but Steve’s quiet one word reply was not it. 

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, and he knew on some instinctive level that Steve wasn’t lying. “Me too.”

At Steve’s sigh, which Bucky knew of no other description for than ‘relieved,’ his pulse quickened and a rush of confidence swept through him. “Can I ask a question now?”

Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Are you attracted to me?”

Heart stopping, Steve swallowed harshly, mouth suddenly dry. He wasn’t a decorated war hero for nothing though, and he summoned all of his reserves of courage to reply “Yes. And you can call me Steve, when we’re alone.”

Bucky palmed his dick and pushed it further down, covering that hand with his other in an attempt to look normal. He was about to lose control. “Me too,” he repeated his earlier response. 

“Is your… issue,” Steve pointed to Bucky’s hands, “because of me?”

Face red from embarrassment, Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. He heard movement from Steve and then heard the door click shut, but he couldn’t look. Suddenly he felt a large, warm hand on his thigh, and his eyes flew open as he jumped. There, crouching in front of him and looking up at his face, was Steve. 

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone, baby boy.” 

Bucky let out a soft groan when Steve called him baby boy, and Steve smiled at his reaction. 

“Let me help you.” Steve’s big hands grabbed Bucky’s wrists and gently pulled his hands away from their protective post. Bucky let himself be manhandled, barely letting himself breathe as Steve looked on his tented shorts with unconcealed lust. 

Steve tucked his fingers into Bucky’s waistband and paused, looking unsure. “May I?”

Bucky nodded so fast he thought his head was going to fly off, and Steve pulled down his shorts in one swoop, Bucky lifting his hips to let them pass. “Fuck, Bucky. You’re beautiful.”

Clenching his fists and panting in a desperate attempt not to cum before Steve even touched him, Bucky squeaked out “I can’t-- I’m going to--”

Steve’s eyes grew, if possible, even hungrier. “Fuck you’re so hard for me. Don’t worry about holding back.”

And with that, Steve leaned forward and swallowed Bucky’s shaft in one go, deep throating him with ease. He pulled back, ran his tongue around Bucky’s swollen head, and made eye contact with Bucky before swallowing him again. He did that only twice before Bucky’s fingers were tangled in his hair as his hips jerked rapidly. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum. I can’t--” Bucky’s groan filled the room as his load filled Steve’s mouth, and Steve eagerly kept swallowing and sucking until there was nothing left. Pulling off with a satisfying smack, Steve wiped a dribble that escaped onto his chin up with his finger and popped that finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. 

“Oh God.” Bucky was almost crying from relief and arousal, and Steve looked more than satisfied at his dishevelled state. 

“Sorry, Buck, I know we probably should’ve talked first. You’re just so damn hot and you were trying so hard to control yourself and I couldn’t help it.”

Bucky, still panting and red-faced, looked at Steve in disbelief. “Did you hear any complaints from me?”

Steve grinned. “Point taken.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment before Bucky breached it. “Not that I’m not grateful, but what does this mean?”

Another period of silence.

“Look, Bucky. I like you. I started liking you on day one when you glared at Roscoe for being a racist fuck to Sam. Er-- Sergeant Wilson. It’s not a physical thing--”

Steve cut off when Bucky looked pointedly down at his still naked lower half and grinned sheepishly. “Okay, so it is a physical thing, but it’s not _just_ a physical thing. And the way I see it, nothing about our relationship would be permitted by the Army whether you were a trainee or not, so fuck them.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Sergeant Wilson did say neither of you were too fond of following the rules.”

Laughing loudly, Steve shook his head. “I’ll have to talk to him about telling tales. Mouthy brat.”

Both men laughed together after that, and Bucky was the first to sober. “So as long as I learn what I need to learn, we can be… involved?”

Steve stood up to his full height, and Bucky swallowed nervously at the strained state of Steve’s shorts. “Yes. And as an added incentive, Sam and I were already planning on taking the top recruit into our unit after this session. We’re a bit more… specialized… than the basic infantry.”

“I won’t let you down,” Bucky said, lending as much conviction to his promise as he could.

“I know you won’t.”

Steve reached down to grab Bucky’s hand, then guided it gently to rest on top of his own bulge. “Though I wouldn’t object to a demonstration of commitment right about now.”

When Bucky’s face looked hesitant and scared, Steve backpedaled quickly. “Of fuck, no, Buck. I like getting a little controlling sometimes, but you always _always_ have the right to tell me to fuck off.”

“It’s not that. I like that," his face flushed red, "It’s just--” Bucky cut off and shook his head. “I’ve never actually, well--” he cut off again, looking frustrated with himself. 

“You’ve never given a blow job before?”

Bucky mumbled something under his breath, and Steve said “I didn’t catch that.”

“I’ve never done anything before. Like, at all.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s hand was still pressed into Steve’s crotch, and he looked up in surprise when he felt Steve’s dick twitch and grow, if possible, harder. 

“I can teach you, you know. If that’s alright?”

Bucky licked his lips and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

Turns out he really didn’t need to.


End file.
